


Platonically Yours

by irishlullaby13



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mr. & Mrs. Platonic, so platonic, they are TOTALLY platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 12:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9725678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: It's valentine's day in Sleepy Hollow.  But Abbie has some absolutely platonic plans with her perfectly platonic bestie/roommate.





	

“So, any big plans tonight?”

Abbie looked up as Sophie walked over to her desk, hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “That depends, who's asking and why,” Abbie retorted.

Sophie shrugged non-committally. “Just thought maybe some of single ladies could hit that new club in town and see if we could shake up a friend to keep us warm at the end of the night.”

“That sounds fun,” Abbie said with a nod. “But, Crane already has dinner almost done and then we were going to watch Monty Python movies, get drunk, and...” Sophie pulled a face and waved her hand to indicate that Abbie needed to stop. “What?”

Sophie shook her head. “I don't need to know the last part,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “All you had to say was you and Crane had romantic plans for the evening.”

Abbie gave Sophie a flat look. “It's not romantic plans,” she said dryly. “We're friends. That's all.”

“Sure, Jan,” Sophie dead panned. “You've been positively glowing the last few weeks so you can't tell me...”

“Well I _am_ telling you. Besides, maybe I'm glowing because I like sitting at my desk on light duty,” Abbie said, showing Sophie the hand and wrist that had been in a splint for the last two weeks. She wriggled her fingers just to emphasize her point. She had sprained it while out in the field.

“All right, all right,” Sophie said in surrender. “Go home and have a totally platonic romantic home-cooked meal with your apocalyptic bestie that gives you heart eyes constantly... and watch dumb pop culture movies. If you change your mind, we're going to be getting there around eight.”

“I'll think about it,” Abbie replied. “And it's not going to be romantic.”

“Ten bucks says there's going to be wine, candles, and fresh picked wild flowers.”

Abbie rolled her eyes. “That doesn't mean it's meant to be romantic. Friends... do that kind of thing.”

Sophie whistled at one of the other agents and nodded them over, the other agent walked over. “Hey Steve. Would you ever make a home-cooked meal with wine, candles, and a wild flower bouquet for your roommate slash bestie?”

Steve looked awkward for a moment. “Yeah...” he replied slowly. “If I wanted to fuck them.”

Sophie gave Abbie a pointed look. “I rest my case.” She sent Steve on his way.

“I feel so attacked right now,” Abbie intoned. “I'm going home. Let me know if you grow up in the next hour or so.”

With that, Abbie made her way home. As expected she could smell an aromatic blend of herbs and spices floating on the air of the house. The table normally reserved for late night chess games was elegantly prepared with a satiny white table cloth, a red sash draped elegantly around two red candles which were already lit and glowing. When she stepped closer, the table was also adored with sparkling red and silver heart confetti. Two of the nicer, matching, dinner plates were already in place with the flatware—both at the same corner, where they normally sat for games.

A single rose was lain across the top edge of both of the plates, which were filled with roasted pork, scalloped potatoes, and asparagus. Abbie huffed victoriously because, _ha, it wasn't wild flowers_. A few seconds later, Crane walked in, filled wine glasses in hand. Abbie pursed her lips and raised a brow.

“Greetings, Lieutenant,” Crane said softly, handing her one of the glasses. “Rest assured, it's sparkling grape juice. No need to worry.”

Abbie chuckled lightly and clinked her glass against his before taking a sip. “How was my totally platonic bestie's day?”

“Retched,” he scoffed playfully. “But, it seems to have taken a sudden up turn just a moment ago. And how has your day been?”

“It was decent until Sophie dared to insinuate that you and I are more than platonic,” Abbie commented. He scoffed at the idea. “I know, right? How dare she.” She took a seat at her plate and Crane carefully scooted her chair closer to the table. 

They ate in companionable silence. Occasionally reaching for each other's hand under the table and giving their partner's fingers a light squeeze. When nearly done, Abbie set down her fork and sipped at her grape juice. “I was thinking. After we get done with this delicious and absolutely platonic valentine's dinner... Instead of watching a movie, since it's kinda chilly out we could go and platonically huddle under the covers of our bed.”

Ichabod nodded in agreement. “That sounds like a wondrous idea. And perhaps we could... platonically do so sans clothing?”

“Oh definitely,” Abbie replied. “Besides, it's the absolute best way to platonically share body heat.” She leaned closer. “And we could do some completely platonic kissing and... other platonic things.”

“As friends are wont to do on occasion,” Crane intoned, amusement glimmering in his eyes. “And then we could resume trying to think of a name for the very platonically conceived life you are carrying.”

That sounded wonderful. A perfectly platonic valentine's day celebration. Finally Abbie couldn't hold back a mirthful giggle. “I can't... I can't do it,” she said. She threw down her cloth napkin after dabbing her mouth clean. “We gotta tell Jenny. I want to see the look on her face when we tell her how very far off she is with her 'platonic' bullshit.”

Ichabod closed his eyes and waved his hand. “Absolutely not,” he said, barely over a whisper. 

“I think she'll get it when she receives the invite to our 'Perfectly Platonic Baby Shower',” Abbie said.

“Which would end with her speeding over and demanding to know what the _deal_ is,” Ichabod reminded. “That was the reaction you wished most to see, remember?”

“Damn, you're right,” Abbie hummed. “That would be priceless.”

Ichabod held up a finger and quickly excused himself to the kitchen. A moment later, he returned with a red envelope, sat down, and handed it to her. Abbie batted her lashes. “What's this?”

“A very platonic valentine's day card,” Ichabod said with all the pomp and seriousness he could muster—which wasn't much. Within seconds they were both giggling as Abbie pulled the card out.

“'To my best friend on Valentine's Day...' Aww, that's so sweet,” she cooed then opened the card. Abbie felt her soul leave her body when she saw an elegant white gold ring with a diamond in the crown carefully taped under a solitary question that closed with 'Platonically Yours, Ichabod Crane' in his elegant handwriting. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Yes. I will definitely platonically marry you.”

The tears were pouring down her face when he carefully removed the ring from the card and slipped it onto her finger. She was sobbing uncontrollably by time he kissed her forehead then her lips. Abbie 100% blamed the fact she was pregnant for the vast amount of tears.

After a moment, Abbie sniffled and wiped her eyes clear. “I guess this means we need to platonically send out wedding invites once we set the date.”


End file.
